The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.

Wiley dog

1 Comment

The Furlongs had a cat once that realised if it crashed out of the cat flap, it chased the birds away. So it learned to carefully open it, quietly, and then gently support it with it’s tail so that the flap closed almost silently.

Animals aren’t stupid.

Now and again, Mr Furlong and I have to sleep together, like now, half term, when the grandchildren stay.

Bass, the clever dog, never ever, ever gets on our beds at night. He never tries to. He has his own bed.

Except when we are sleeping in the same bed.

The interesting fact is that Bass is a sort of clumpy dog. He’s heavy. He lands after a jump like a ton of bricks.

Except when we are sleeping in the same bed.

During the night, this not dainty dog, becomes light as a feather. He tip toes onto the bed. He somehow ends up between us like a heavy rock. Furthermore, he won’t be budged and sticks to the bed like a limpet.

He knows dogs in this house don’t sleep on our beds at night. Yet he claims a place without us even knowing.

Silently, lightly, in the night.

It’s always a surprise.

Author: Elizabeth

I'm someone also pounding the Path, just like you.. I'm retired, going into Old Age and loving my life. I'm hoping to remain happy and well for as long as possible. Old Age is not SO bad - yet!

One thought on “Wiley dog

  1. Thanks for the laugh!

    Liked by 1 person

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